


Oh! One True Destined Partner!

by elyvorg



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Friendship, Gen, Post-Pacifist Route, Silly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-18
Updated: 2016-02-18
Packaged: 2018-05-21 13:27:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6053265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elyvorg/pseuds/elyvorg
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Frisk and Papyrus get married. Sort of.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Oh! One True Destined Partner!

**Author's Note:**

  * For [antialiasis](https://archiveofourown.org/users/antialiasis/gifts).



> The "plot" of this thing (if you can call it that) is a direct reference to a very... _memorable_ scene from the game Persona Q, so it will make at least somewhat more sense if you happen to have played that. That said, Undertale lends itself quite well to utterly ridiculous situations, so it shouldn't matter much.
> 
> This was written as a birthday gift for my friend antialiasis and was not intended to see the light of the internet, but she insisted I post it so that other people could read it, too. Blame her.

“YOUR DESTINED PARTNER IS… LO AND BEHOLD…”

You wake with a start to find yourself in a pitch-black room. There’s a drumroll coming from somewhere. As it reaches its climax, a spotlight turns on in front of you to reveal… Papyrus.

In fairness, he looks just as confused about how he got here as you are, but the moment he notices you, his face lights up.

“FRISK? DID IT JUST SAY . . . YOU’RE MY DESTINED PARTNER???” He fidgets bashfully. “I . . . THIS IS . . . W-WOW-AAARGH!!!”

His words degenerate into a yelp as a trapdoor opens up beneath the two of you. Before you can react, there’s a familiar blue sensation as Papyrus takes hold of your soul to slow your fall. You land lightly in a field of bright green grass. Heart-shaped arches frame a path in front of you.

“ARE YOU OKAY?” Papyrus asks frantically. “YOU’RE NOT HURT, ARE YOU?”

You’re used to this kind of thing by now, so you doubt you’d have been hurt either way, but you shake your head and smile at him all the same.

He beams in relief. “GOOD!!! SO . . . WHERE ARE WE?”

“IT SEEMS YOU HAVE REACHED YOUR DESTINATION.” Once again, the mechanical voice echoes from all around you.

“WE HAVE??? I – I MEAN, OF COURSE WE HAVE!!!” Papyrus strikes a pose, his cape billowing out behind him (you suspect that he’s using his gravity magic to make it do that, since there’s no wind). “NYEH HEH HEH! I DIDN’T EVEN KNOW WE HAD A DESTINATION, AND YET I MANAGED TO GET US THERE! TRULY, THE GREAT PAPYRUS IS VERY GREAT INDEED.”

“THIS SEEMS TO BE A PATH WHERE lovers WHO HAVE MET THEIR DESTINED PARTNERS DISCUSS THEIR love FOR EACH OTHER,” the voice continues. “WHAT COULD BE WAITING UP AHEAD? YOU ARE FREE TO STEP FORTH, HAND IN HAND, CURIOSITY AND FEAR IN YOUR HEARTS, OR YOU CAN REFRAIN.”

Papyrus frowns, glancing at the indicated path ahead. “L-LOVERS?” His voice is lacking some of its usual enthusiasm. “DESTINED PARTNERS???”

All of a sudden, he puffs up his chest. “WELL! IF DESTINY SAYS SO, THEN IT MUST BE TRUE!” With a dramatic clearing of his (non-existent) throat, he stares grandly down at you. “HUMAN!!! I MEAN, FRISK! I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, WILL BE YOUR DESTINED PARTNER!”

You’re not sure if that was meant as a question, but you nod anyway.

“A-AND, LOOK! I EVEN WORE MY BATTLE BODY TODAY, ESPECIALLY FOR YOU!!” You refrain from pointing out that this is hardly a surprise, since he never wears anything else. “SO, YOU SEE, IT MUST BE DESTINY!!”

There’s something a touch overeager and desperate in the way he’s saying it, so in an attempt to reassure him, you nod again and agree that it’s definitely destiny.

“HEH . . . HEH . . . YOU THINK SO, TOO . . .? W-WOWIE!”

He jumps as the mechanical voice blares out again. “YOU ARE FREE TO STEP FORTH, OR REFRAIN FROM DOING SO. THESE ARE YOUR APPARENT OPTIONS. NOW, STEP FORTH!”

Papyrus pauses to consider this. “I THINK WE SHOULD STEP FORTH, DON’T YOU? NYEH HEH HEH! THAT PUZZLE WAS AN EASY ONE!”

Before you can indeed step forth, he raises a finger to stop you. “WAIT!!! EARLIER, IT TOLD US TO STEP FORTH HAND-IN-HAND. WE SHOULD DO THIS PROPERLY!!!”

He holds out a hand to you expectantly. Well, why not. You take it and begin walking along the path together. Papyrus’s grip is a little tighter than you’re used to, and he’s being un-Papyrusily quiet as you approach some kind of large rectangular object ahead.

As you get close enough to the thing to be able to tell what it is, the voice interrupts. “SUDDENLY, ALL IN ATTENDANCE HEAR AN ANNOUNCEMENT.”

Papyrus gasps. “AN ANNOUNCEMENT!?”

“UP AHEAD, THEY SEE A BRIDE AND GROOM’S JOYOUS COMMEMORATIVE PHOTOGRAPH OF love. THEY CONFER BETWEEN THEM WHETHER TO LOOK AT IT, OR IGNORE IT.”

“BRIDE AND GROOM? COMMEMORATIVE PHOTOGRAPH??? THAT SOUNDS EXCITING. I VOTE WE LOOK AT IT!!!”

The photograph in question is so large and so in your way, in fact, that short of both of you closing your eyes and stumbling blindly past it, it would be hard not to look at it.

So you look at it. And then you look at it some more, and keep looking. It’s… impressive. That’s one word for it. To be fair to the mechanical voice, it does indeed contain a bride and groom, the former being held wedding-style in the latter’s arms. That alone would be unremarkable, except for the part where the groom has your face and the bride has Papyrus’s.

The indescribable feeling you get from looking at this photograph fills you with determination.

(You decide not to SAVE here. There’s no need.)

“LOOK! THEIR HANDS ARE MAKING A HEART TOGETHER!” observes Papyrus. “THAT’S A NICE TOUCH.”

He takes a step closer to the picture and boggles in surprise. “WAIT!!! ISN’T THAT YOU??? AND . . . ME????? WHEN WAS THIS TAKEN??? I DON’T REMEMBER DOING THIS AT ALL!!!”

You’re wondering that, too, whether perhaps it somehow got here from another timeline – though, really, you have no idea _what_ you’d have had to do to get that as an ending. But as you keep looking, you notice the signs that your faces have been artificially cut and pasted on. The photo’s a fake. It’s almost a shame, really.

Papyrus doesn’t seem to have realised it. You decide not to tell him.

“ACTUALLY . . .” He’s squinting closely at the photo. “DON’T YOU THINK I LOOK RATHER DASHING IN THAT DRESS? NYEH HEH HEH HEH HEH! PERHAPS THIS WEDDING THING ISN’T SUCH A BAD IDEA AFTER ALL! I, PAPYRUS, SHALL BE THE COOLEST BRIDE!!!”

He beams down at you. “AND YOU, FRISK, WILL BE THE GREATEST GROOM! HERE, YOU SHOULD PICK ME UP LIKE IN THE PHOTO!!!”

Hands on hips, he stands there, waiting. Well. You can try, at least.

You wrap your arms around Papyrus’s ribcage and attempt to lift him off the ground, without much success. He’s probably not very heavy, but you’re just too short to get the necessary leverage. You imagine you could suplex him from this position – Undyne has been giving you lessons – but that doesn’t seem entirely appropriate at this point in time.

You give up and shrug helplessly at him.

“NEVER MIND, FRISK! IT WAS A VALIANT EFFORT! NOW, WATCH AS THE GREAT PAPYRUS SHOWS YOU HOW IT’S DONE!!!”

With that, he sweeps you off your feet and gazes deeply into your eyes. It’s… kind of awkward, in all honesty, and judging from his expression, Papyrus is finding it even more so than you are. Still, he keeps insistently staring for far longer than either of you find comfortable.

Eventually, he sets you down and fidgets on the spot. “W-WELL, ANYWAY. WE SHOULD KEEP GOING.” He grabs your hand again without asking and begins leading you further along the path. You seem to be headed towards some kind of building that vaguely resembles a church. Whoever set this up really went all out on the details. You have a feeling you know who it is.

As you get closer, Papyrus’s steps gradually lose their usual jauntiness. He slows to a stop and lets go of your hand.

“I . . . I NEED TO CONFESS SOMETHING,” he says, glancing away from you and wringing his hands. “I . . .” His shoulders slump. “I STILL DON’T LIKE YOU THAT WAY. R-ROMANTICALLY. I’M SORRY. I-I TRIED . . .! I TRIED EVEN HARDER THAN LAST TIME! I THOUGHT . . . IF IT WAS DESTINY, THEN I HAD TO . . .” He lets out a miserable sigh. “BUT I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, HAVE FAILED YOU. AS A FRIEND . . . AS A DESTINED PARTNER . . .” It looks like he’s about to cry.

(You resist the impulse to flirt with him again just to see how he’d react. That’d only make things worse, and these people – your _friends_ – are not your playthings. There will be no more resets, ever. You promised.)

Instead, you pat him on the arm and tell him the truth. That you never felt that way about him either. You only flirted with him because you were desperate to somehow stop him fighting you, and then you went along with the date because you thought he wanted to do it. (Well, the first time around, at least. You don’t mention that part; it would only complicate things.)

As you explain, his expression slowly shifts back to the Papyrus you know so well. “R-REALLY??? WOWIE! SO, ALL ALONG, WE WERE BOTH IN THE FRIEND ZONE!!” He pauses and glances around in confusion. “BUT THEN . . . HOW CAN WE BE DESTINED PARTNERS? THE VOICE SAID ‘LOVERS’ . . .”

You shrug. It never specified what _kind_ of love it was talking about, did it? Maybe it meant destined _platonic_ partners?

Papyrus gasps in excitement. “THAT’S IT!!! THAT MUST BE IT!!!” He’s started doing a little bouncing dance on the spot, like he can barely contain himself. “SO – SO, THIS, AND THAT PHOTO . . . DOES THAT MEAN WE’RE ABOUT TO GET MARRIED . . . PLATONICALLY??? WILL YOU, FRISK??!”

It’s not like you weren’t already going to be friends with him for life, but he looks so ecstatic that you can’t do anything but nod.

His huge grin somehow gets even huger, and he pulls you into a massive hug. “OH MY GOD!!! THIS IS THE GREATEST DAY OF MY LIFE!!!!! WELL, ALONG WITH THE DAY I MET YOU . . . AND THE DAY I MET UNDYNE . . . AND THE DAY WE GOT TO THE SURFACE . . . AND THE DAY I REALISED SANS WAS HAPPY AGAIN . . .” He lets you go and pauses thoughtfully. “ACTUALLY, NOW THAT I THINK ABOUT IT, I’VE HAD LOTS OF GREAT DAYS, HAVEN’T I? NYEH HEH HEH! EVERY DAY’S GREAT WHEN YOU’RE THE GREAT PAPYRUS, AFTER ALL!!!”

Beaming down at you, he offers you his hand, without a trace of awkwardness this time. “NYEE HEE HEE,” he giggles. “SHALL WE GET GOING, FRISK? TO MARRIAGE!!!”

And, hand-in-hand with you, he practically skips along the rest of the path towards the church doors.

“THE LONG-AWAITED MOMENT HAS COME,” says the mechanical voice as you reach them. “THE BRIDE AND GROOM ARE FINALLY ABOUT TO ENTER. THE LAST MOMENT OF HESITATION HAS ARRIVED BEFORE YOU ARE TO BE WED.”

“HESITATION??? WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?? THE GREAT PAPYRUS WOULD NEVER DREAM OF HESITATING!!!”

“THROUGH YOUR OWN FREE WILL, YOU DECIDE TO VOW ETERNAL love TO EACH OTHER.”

“YES!!! OF COURSE WE DO! GET ON WITH IT ALREADY!!!”

“NOW, OPEN THE DOOR TOGETHER!”

Papyrus grins at you, strikes a pose, and then kicks the doors open with all his might. You’d call this excessive, but then again, he did once jump through Undyne’s window.

He freezes with his leg still in the air as he sees inside the church. “HUH? METTATON???”

The only part of this you weren’t expecting is the vicar’s collar, somehow fastened around the robot’s rectangular body. Though, really, you should have seen something like that coming too.

The pixels on Mettaton’s face are lit up in the shape of a heart, reminding you awkwardly of that time he sang to you. “YOU MUST VOW YOUR UNWAVERING love FOR ONE ANOTHER, IN SICKNESS AND IN HEALTH.” He’s back to his familiar, less overtly mechanical voice, now that he’s no longer trying to keep his presence a surprise. “NOW, VOW YOUR love!”

Papyrus stops gazing star-struck at Mettaton and eagerly turns back to you. “I DO!! I VERY MUCH DO!!!”

You smile at him. You do, too.

“CONGRATULATIONS!” Confetti falls from somewhere as Mettaton claps enthusiastically. “YOU MAY NOW SMOOCH!”

You shoot him a disapproving stare. Wasn’t he listening to everything you were talking about outside?

His hands freeze mid-clap. “OR… NOT. WHICHEVER YOU PREFER, DARLINGS.” He makes a robotic throat-clearing sound. “AAAANYWAY! THAT CONCLUDES TODAY’S PRIVATE PERFORMANCE OF _GET MARRIED BY A KILLER ROBOT_! WE HOPE YOU ENJOYED THE SHOW!  Note:-despite-being-a-fabulous-TV-star,-MTT-does-not-possess-a-license-to-marry. All-vows-uttered-in-his-presence-do-not-constitute-a-legally-binding-contract. WELL, TOODLES!”

Before either of you can respond to the muttered sentences he’s just rattled off, Mettaton trundles hastily away, backwards, and disappears through some unseen exit.

Papyrus doesn’t seem amused. “WHAT??!!! I HEARD THAT!!” he yells in the voice he usually reserves for when Sans is being especially lazy. “DO YOU MEAN THAT AFTER ALL THAT, WE’RE NOT ACTUALLY MARRIED??! GET BACK HERE AND MARRY US PROPERLY!!! AND WHAT ABOUT MY DRESS???!!”

And he storms off after Mettaton, leaving you alone in the church.

Well. That was… oddly elaborate, even for Mettaton. Granted, he loves doing this kind of thing, but why specifically this? You get the feeling he’s not the only one behind this, especially considering the way you suddenly arrived in this place out of nowhere.

…Oh. Right. Now that you think about it, there’s only one person you know capable of getting you here (wherever here is) that quickly without you noticing.

You roll your eyes and call out to Sans. He wanders out from behind a pillar that you’re sure had nobody behind it when you entered the church a minute ago. 

“heh,” he mutters. “had a feeling you’d see right through me, kid.”

There’s an awkward silence as Sans glances around the room, like he’s hoping his explanation is going to appear out of thin air and present itself to save him the bother.

“so, uh,” he says eventually. “my brother’s been feeling kinda down lately. hasn’t been able to make many human friends since we got to the surface. no idea why. anyway, i wanted to do something to cheer him up, so i asked undyne, who asked alphys, who asked mettaton, and… well.” He shrugs. “things got a bit out of hand. still, it seemed to do the trick.” The corners of his eyesockets twitch upwards, a sign that he’s actually smiling beneath his permanent grin. “thanks for playing along. papyrus looked so happy. i owe you one… again.”

You shake your head firmly. He’s your _friend_ , just like Papyrus, so neither of them should owe you anything. (You’re the one who has a debt to repay to _them_.)

“heh. guess you’re right,” Sans concedes. “sorry, just still not used to…” He glances away for a second, a distant look in his eyes. “all this.”

In a flash, he’s back to his usual self as he winks at you. “anyway, what’re you standing around for? don’t you have a reception to be at? everyone’s so emotional, i hear even the cake’s in tiers. ‘specially ‘cause undyne made it.” He holds out a hand. “c’mon, buddy. let’s go. i know a shortcut.”


End file.
